THE MINISTER'S DEBTS
Slade was present at the inquest. He was deeply interested in the
proceedings, and every now and then he might have been seen to smile
in a saturnine way. For his own purposes he had impressed on Brand the
necessity of absolute silence concerning the discovery in Johnson's
study.
"That one of them curtain-cords was used to choke the girl proves a
good deal," he said, emphasizing with a stumpy finger on the palm of
his hand; "but it don't quite show as Johnson killed the girl."
"But even before you found out about the cord, you were sure that he
was guilty."
"And I'm sure now, Mr. Brand--that I am; but I wants certain facts to
build up a complete case against him--facts as he can't deny. Now,
this window-cord is one fact, but for all that, some one might have
been in the room, and took it just to get Johnson into trouble. Now,
my wife, Jemima, she's as sharp as sharp. She's been speaking to old
Mrs. Johnson, who talks a lot, and Mrs. Johnson says as this girl and
her son had a quarrel over her refusing him, afore the murder."
"That strengthens the case against Mr. Johnson."
"Hold on, sir. Mrs. Johnson says as the window-cord was missing three
days afore that row took place. Now, sir, if Johnson killed the girl
he wouldn't have got ready the cord and taken it away so long afore he
needed it. If he is the murderer, he killed the girl in a fit of
passion 'cos she was running away with the pearls as he wanted to pay
his debts with. Going on this evidence, sir, some one must have stolen
that cord with the idea of murder--and that some one, by reasoning
aforesaid--as the lawyers say, wasn't George Johnson."
"Then you think that our pastor is innocent?" said Brand, hopefully.
"I don't say nothing, sir, because I don't see clear. Wait till I sees
him at the inquest, and then we'll talk."
So at the inquest, Slade was observant of the minister's demeanour.
However, he gained little from his scrutiny. Johnson had exhausted his
earlier grief, and was cool and collected, and perfectly willing to
repeat the story he had told Chard. He answered the questions which
were put to him, but made no voluntary statement. By adopting this
course, he was able to keep his secret of the lost and restored bills.
Yet several times it was in his mind to tell Chard of the stealthy
footsteps and the theft. It was just possible, he thought, that some
one might have seen him looking at the pearls, and afterwards,
ascertaining in the same way that Tera had taken them, have followed
the girl to murder her for their sake. But after debating the subject
in his mind, he decided to hold his peace, and the evidence he gave,
while exonerating himself, could throw no light on the darkness which
environed the case.
Nor had Chard procured any other evidence likely to elucidate the
matter at all. He had not heard the story of Herbert Mayne's meeting
with Johnson on the night of Tera's disappearance, near the field in
which her body had afterwards been found. Herbert had told this only
to Rachel and the policeman Slade. The first had remained silent, lest
the pastor whom she admired should be accused of a crime which she was
certain he had not committed: the second, after relating the incident
to Brand, had agreed with him that until they found fresh evidence, it
was best to hold their tongues. Therefore, no one but these three knew
that Johnson had actually been near the scene of the crime, and in the
minister's admission to Chard he had merely stated that he had
searched two hours for the girl. Johnson repeated his former story,
and the jury did the best they could with it; for no other evidence
was procurable. There was, indeed, some talk of Finland and his
departure; but as every one knew that he loved Tera, and could have
secured both the girl and the pearls by marrying her--a course to
which she was generally known as willing to consent--no one thought of
taxing him with the crime. The peculiarity of the silken tri-coloured
cord used passed unnoticed, strange to say. A London detective would
have been struck by it immediately; but Chard and his subordinates
were unaccustomed to such finnicky data, and it escaped them
altogether.
On such spare evidence, it can easily be guessed what verdict was
given by the thickheaded jury chosen from the Grimleigh wiseacres.
They decided that Tera, alias Bithiah, a native of Polynesia, had been
murdered by some person or persons unknown; and when the proceedings
terminated, all those present thought they had heard the last of the
matter. Slade chuckled and rubbed his hands; for now that Chard seemed
likely to abandon inquiries as useless, he could go to work at his
leisure, and build up a case as he chose. So far he had suspected
Johnson alone; but on reconsidering the incident of the curtain-cord
having been stolen three days before Tera's disappearance, he
concluded that some other person also was concerned in the matter. Who
that person might be Slade, in his present state of indecision, was
not prepared to say.
Having fulfilled the official part of his duties, Inspector Chard
returned to the Grimleigh police office for a rest, preparatory to
riding back to Poldew. While there, he was informed that Korah Brand
wished to speak to him, and on the assumption that the man, having
been connected with Tera, might have something of importance to say,
he admitted him at once to an interview.
"Well, Mr. Brand," said Chard, genially, "and what can I do for you?"
"I want to know about this poor girl's murder, sir," replied Brand, in
his heavy, solemn way. "What are you going to do now?"
"Why, Mr. Brand, I have no very definite plans. But I may tell you
that I intend to search for those pearls."
"What will that do?"
"Reveal the identity of the murderer. There is no doubt in my mind,
nor can there be in yours, that Tera was murdered for the sake of the
pearls. Now, whoever has them, will surely turn them into money. To do
so, he must sell them to some jeweller or pawnbroker. I intend to
communicate with the London police on this point. They may discover
who sold or pawned them, and thus be able to lay hands on the man we
are in search of."
"What makes you think of looking in London, Mr. Chard?"
"Because that sailor Finland went up there a week after the girl
disappeared."
"He went to join his ship," said Brand, who believed in Jack's
innocence.
"So he said," replied Mr. Inspector, dryly; "a very good excuse to get
away from the town without suspicion."
"But I don't see why you should think Finland guilty. He assured me
most solemnly that he never set eyes on Bithiah on that night."
"Oh, I dare say. But Finland is Carwell's nephew--the body was found
in one of Carwell's fields--so it is not beyond the bounds of
probability that Finland placed it there."
"I don't believe it," cried Brand, vigorously. "Bithiah, I believe,
ran away to marry Finland, and by such marriage he could have secured
both her and the pearls. Why should he kill her?"
When Korah placed the matter in this light. Inspector Chard was
puzzled, and, unable to answer the question, lost his temper.
"I don't pretend to be infallible," said he, harshly, "and I may be
mistaken. All the same, I believe Finland to be guilty."
"Then why don't you arrest him?"
"Because I have not sufficient evidence to enable me to get a
warrant," replied the inspector, tartly, "nor do I know where the man
is. However, it is my intention to find out if possible the
whereabouts of those pearls for which the girl was murdered. When I
learn who disposed of them, I shall be able to capture the murderer."
"He won't be Finland, sir."
"That we shall see," retorted Chard, and closed an interview in which
he felt he was getting the worst of the argument.
Brand left the police-office with the conviction that Tera's murderer
would never be discovered by this mulish officer. Slade had twice the
man's brains and decision, and Korah resolved to rely on him for the
conduct of the case. He looked round for the policeman, but not
finding him, and feeling he must talk with some one about the matter,
he hurried up the hill to Johnson's house. As Slade suspected Johnson,
and as the queer incident of the lost window-cord proved that there
was some ground for such suspicions. Brand thought he would do a
little business on his own account, and question the minister. In the
course of conversation he thought some evidence might be discovered
likely to incriminate Johnson. Korah was inclined to beseech the young
man to fly, lest he should be arrested, and lest disgrace should fall
upon the chapel people of Grimleigh. Even as matters stood now,
Johnson was in a dangerous position.
On entering the study, Brand cast a glance at the window, and saw
that, as Slade had stated, one of the tri-coloured cords was missing.
This fact made him wonder if Johnson had really strangled the girl
with it; and if so, whether he had committed the crime in order to
secure the pearls for the payment of his debts, or in a fit of despair
caused by the rejection of his love. If haggard looks, which might be
the outcome of remorse, went for anything, Johnson was guilty; for the
man was white and worried-looking. Dark circles were under his eyes,
his manner of greeting his visitor was uneasy, and he looked as though
he had not slept for hours. On the other hand, this physical
deterioration might be caused by grief for Tera's death.
"Do you wish to see me particularly, brother Korah?" asked Johnson,
lifting his heavy eyes with a weary look; "I am scarcely fit to talk."
Brand sat down and assumed a stern demeanour. "Is this sorrow on
account of your earthly passion, brother, or because an immortal soul
has been lost?"
"Bithiah's soul has not been lost," cried Johnson, stirred out of his
apathy to honest indignation; "she was a good girl, a true Christian.
Her death was a martyrdom."
"Yet she died in sin," persisted the narrow-minded missionary. "She
fled from your house with evil in her heart, and with the pearls."
"The pearls were her own property."
"No, brother. They were entrusted to her care by Buli, that she might
buy goods for the civilization of Kioau. She was his steward, and had
no right to remove the pearls from your keeping. But these matters,"
added Brand, taking a more worldly tone, "we can discuss at leisure.
The question now, and the one about which I came to see you, is the
funeral."
"I have arranged with Inspector Chard about the funeral," said
Johnson, wearily. "To-morrow the poor remains are to be buried in our
own cemetery, and I shall read the service over the dead. Poor Tera,
it is all I can do for her."
"You will bury Bithiah the Christian, but not Tera the pagan, brother.
Do you think you are wise to appear at the funeral?"
"Why not, Brother Korah?"
"There may be a riot."
"A riot!" Johnson looked surprised. "And why should there be a riot if
I appear?"
The missionary looked perplexed, and tugged at his grey beard.
"Brother, brother," he said, in a tone of remonstrance, "do you not
know that public opinion credits you with the crime?"
Johnson rose slowly, with a look of horror on his colourless face, but
this speedily gave way to an expression of indignation, "Who dares to
say such a thing?" he demanded.
"It is the general opinion," rejoined Korah, coldly. "You were near
the field where the body was found on the very night Bithiah
disappeared--on the very night when--if we go by medical evidence--the
girl was murdered."
"I was looking for her. Bithiah often walked near that field, and I
thought it likely that I should find her there. Kill her! I swear to
you, Brand, that I would as soon have killed myself as her. I loved
her dearly; why then should I commit a crime contrary to my earthly
love, to my religious principles?"
"I do not accuse you--the public voice does that," replied Brand,
still cold and unsympathetic; "you are known to be in debt----"
"I am not in debt now," interrupted Johnson, hurriedly; "all my debts
are paid."
"Paid! Your debts paid!" Brand was thunderstruck, for this was the
last thing he expected to hear. "How did you pay them?" he demanded
with sudden suspicion.
"I did not pay them. Brand."
"Then who did?"
"I don't know," was Johnson's extraordinary reply.
Brand looked at him sternly and droned out a proverb: "'Therefore
shall they eat of the fruit of their own way, and be filled with their
own devices,'" he quoted.
"What do you mean, brother?"
"Brother!" repeated Korah, rising with indignation. "I am not a
brother to you, man of sin as you are. Your debts are paid! Yes, I
believe that. You do not know who paid them. Liar! You paid them
yourself with the wages of your sin."
"My sin!" gasped Johnson, aghast.
"Do not add deceit to your iniquity, man. You killed that girl; you
stole her pearls; when you went to London it was to sell them. Now you
have paid your debts at the cost of Bithiah's life. 'Be sure thy sin
will find thee out.' It has found you out--murderer!"
"I am no murderer," cried the minister, vehemently; "as I am a living
man, I had no hand in her death. I never saw her after she left my
house. I searched, but in vain. Who paid my debts, I do not know.
Yesterday I found a pile of receipted bills on this table. Who put
them there I know no more than you do."
"You cannot impose upon me by such a story," said Brand, coldly;
"debts like yours are not paid by unknown people. If such were the
case, all you have to do is to see your creditors and ask who paid
them."
"I intend to, but as yet I have not had the time. After the funeral of
Tera I am going to London to see my creditors and learn the truth."
Brand smiled. "You are going to London," he repeated; "that is, you
intend to seek safety in flight. Well, it is the best thing you can
do. I shall not betray your secret."
"I do not intend to fly. I have done nothing wrong."
"Man! man! why will you try to deceive me? I am your friend, and for
your sake, for the sake of our Bethesda, I implore you to fly. What
will your congregation say if their pastor is hanged for murder?"
Johnson drew back with a shudder. "Hanged! No, they dare not. I am
innocent."
"You have yet to prove that."
"Brand," cried the wretched man, imploringly, "you do not believe that
I killed Tera?"
"From my soul I believe you did," replied Korah, sternly, "and if I
did my duty I should deliver you to justice. But for the sake of
Bethgamul I refrain. My man, fly, and repent of your terrible sin!
God help you, for I cannot!" and with a gesture of casting off a
sinner. Brand walked out of the room.